Toys in the Attic
by Boys On Boysenberry-hime
Summary: The master meets the apprentice. 6926


Pretty much nothing is said about how Mukuro and Fran meet, and anytime you throw that kind of story hole at me, my mind just starts working. So I thought and plotted, and came up with a fun way to tell that story. ; ) Is there anything in the manga to support it? Nooo but it's fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

Paitings: 6926 Student/Teacher relationship, eventual B26

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own it.

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"Fran, I know this must be a very trying time for you. I commend your composure after such a sad event."

Fran blinked. Was it a trying time? He supposed it had to be, that anyone else would have thought it was, but to him it just felt…different. Like there was a piece missing to a puzzle that he had little interest in finishing anyway. Everything wasn't quite clinking into place anymore, but did that necessarily make it _difficult?_

"Your father was an incredible, exceptional mist guardian. He had my complete trust at all times."

"Isn't that what a mist guardian is supposed to be? I mean there isn't much reason for one you don't trust, is there?"

The boss frowned. He could have almost considered the comment to be an insult, but from Fran it was just to be expected. Fran never seemed to have an internal filter for his words, in fact he seemed to enjoy antagonizing his colleagues and elders, and while it was a character flaw, the boss knew that no doubt he would one day grow out of it.

"I trust all of my guardians with my life, Fran. But your father was a dear friend of mine, and he protected this family with more loyalty than anyone could have asked for."

Fran didn't answer. His boss just seemed to be stating more of the obvious, and calling his attention to it just seemed like a useless exercise. It was all just talk anyway; kind words for a child grieving over the loss of his last surviving parent.

The boss cleared his throat and stood. "Alfeo will be taking your over your father's responsibilities as our guardian, and I know he wishes to offer you his condolences before you return to school. And I'm sure that you wish to look through your father's belongings before you leave as well. Take anything that you like as a reminder of him."

Though the idea of having an object stand as a replacement for his father seemed like a silly prospect, Fran nodded and mumbled his thanks. He would need to look through his father's room anyway, and having an excuse to do so just made it that much easier.

"Take as much time as you need. And Fran," The boss stepped closer and put a reassuring hand on Fran's shoulder. "I look forward to the day when you too will be an exceptional guardian for our family."

A guardian of the family. Fran mulled the notion over as he walked the long distance from the Boss's office to his father's room. It had always been the plan he supposed; a guardian with a son who showed a talent for illusions from a young age seemed like the logical progression after all. That was why they sent to him off to the special school for the children of the Mafia. To learn what it meant to be a part of the family and live by the ways of the Mafia. Fran wasn't sure it suited him. He enjoyed illusions, enjoyed making something out of nothing, but to use that skill to protect the family seemed almost boring.

He stopped in front of his father's closed bedroom door and glanced up at it. Looking through his father's belongings could take all day, but at least it would keep him from having to deal with Alfeo and his sappy words of comfort. Fran opened the door and shut it quickly behind him. There wasn't much he cared about, but as he laid eyes on the black military jacket draped over the desk chair he decided that he might as well keep something that represented his father. He shrugged it over his shoulders and turned to survey the room. There was only one other thing he planned to take, and that was only because it now rightfully belonged to him. His father had said that much, at least.

Fran paused at the desk. It seemed almost too easy to find it there, but then again his father would have always kept close at hand.

_I wonder if they pried it off of my dad's finger when he died. That's pretty morbid._

Shrugging to himself he opened the top drawer and looked inside. Other than papers and a few assorted office supplies it was empty, and as he slid it closed he was already looking towards the bedside table. That would keep it even closer at hand.

A knock on the door temporarily distracted him from his search and he glanced up to find a familiar face appear in the crack of the door as it opened.

"Figured you would be in here, kid. Sorry about your dad. You holding up alright?"

Fran shrugged. "Everyone's treating me like a little kid, but I can handle it, really."

"No doubt." Cristiano strode into the room like he belonged there, looking around with the same lack of interest that Fran has displayed upon entering. "He didn't have a lot of keepsakes, but I see you've adopted his coat."

"I like it."

"Well it suits you," the storm guardian conceded as he sat at the edge of the bed. For a moment he simply watched as Fran sifted through the bedside table. "Looking for something specific?"

Fran glanced over. "Do you know where my father kept the Hell ring? I know Alfeo is too stupid to know."

"Well that's where you would be wrong." Cristiano stood. "Alfeo has it. The Boss gave it to him when your father died."

Fran stared. It had been made very clear to the entire family that the ring was supposed to be his. "My father was going to give it to me."

Cristiano scratched his head. "You'd have to talk to Alfeo about that."

"I hate him. Couldn't I just go over his head and talk to the Boss?"

"I think it's better if you talk to him first. He must have it for a reason."

"But it's a logical progression, you see?" Fran raised a finger. "From whoever had it first to my dad, then to me, his only son. Doesn't that make sense?"

Cristiano sighed. Fran was going to be stubborn about the matter, and as the Boss's right hand he was bound to hear about it until the matter was settled. "Fran, for once in your life listen to what I tell you. Go talk to Alfeo, see what he has to say, and after that you can be a pain in my and the Boss's ass, alright?"

"Tch." Fran looked back towards the door. "I hate that stupid man. He doesn't even make that great of illusions."

"Again, Fran, take it up with him." With a pat to Fran's shoulder he left. "Sorry again about your dad."

Alone in the room again Fran sighed. He was getting tired of people patting him on the shoulder. As if the gesture was somehow supposed to be comforting or a show of support. To him it seemed like a copout whenever someone didn't know what else to say. He adjusted the coat around his shoulders. As much as he wanted to avoid it he knew there was no point in delaying his talk with Alfeo. He didn't so much care about the sympathy he would offer as he did the explanation for how he had come into the possession of what Fran already considered to be his ring.

He ran into Alfeo before he could even get to his room, the newly appointed mist guardian seizing him about the shoulders and offering what he must have thought was a comforting smile. Fran didn't think it suited him that well.

"Fran, I'm glad I ran into you." He stepped back to look Fran over in full. "I like the coat. You look just like your father. Well, actually you look a lot more like your mother did, but dressed like that you look like your dad."

"Thanks." Fran muttered. "I always wanted to look like a woman dressed in a man's clothes."

"What'd you say, Frannie?"

"Nothing." Fran sighed. "Do you have my Hell ring?"

Alfeo frowned. "Your Hell ring? Don't you mean your father's Hell ring?"

"Well he's dead now so he can't very well own it, can he?

Alfeo closed his eyes. He didn't much feel like arguing semantics with Fran. It would be an argument that could go on all day. "Alright, the Hell ring. Yes, I have it."

"Could I have it please? My father left it to me, you know. You've heard of inheritance, right?"

Alfeo shook his head. He should have known what this was about. Before Fran had even reached home the family had had a long discussion and reached a conclusion, but until that point it seemed like Fran had been kept completely in the dark, which only put the headache of explaining it on him.

"Fran," He slung an arm around Fran's shoulders and began to walk. "Let me explain it to you and I think you'll understand. Yes, your father left it to you, but you aren't old enough to put it to good use."

_Treating me like a kid again…_

"Your father used that ring to protect this family, which is exactly what I plan to use it for. When you're older and a guardian yourself, then maybe it'll be passed on to you. Until then, I plan to keep it safe and put it to good use."

The 'maybe' in Alfeo's explanation struck Fran as wrong. It shouldn't have been a maybe, it should have been a definitely, and it should be happening right away. "I don't think you meant to say maybe there, Alfeo."

"Did I say maybe?" Alfeo shrugged. "Well that's the long and short of it, so don't worry Fran. Your father's ring is in good hands."

Fran stared up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head as he contemplated a bit of cobweb hanging from the light. The turn of events didn't so much irritate or annoy him, but he certainly didn't like it. The ring was his father's, or more accurately it was his own, and it had been taken without any input from him. It wasn't fair, he decided, and if that was going to be how the family treated him and his father's memory, he wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of it.

He rolled to his side and blinked slowly. He had never been attached to Alfeo to begin with, and now he felt something close to disgust. Alfeo had never been an illusionist on the same level as Fran's father, and his fumbling, hardly adequate illusions should have been enough to keep him from ever being a family guardian, let alone the possessor of one the rarest rings in history. He couldn't understand, couldn't possibly fathom why the boss made the choices he had, but Fran knew only one thing. If he didn't like the ring being in Alfeo's hands, if he truly believed that it belonged to him, then he was going to take it back. He sat up and braced his hands against the bed. It would be easy enough to take back, and feeling as annoyed as he did, there was no reason to wait any longer and dwell on it. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and yawned, glancing quickly at the clock to check the time. After two in the morning. Alfeo would surely be asleep, and unlike the other guardians, who would have sensed an intruder in their room, Alfeo was dense enough to not wake when he entered. At least, in Fran's opinion he was.

With only a dim idea of how he would take the ring, Fran walked soundlessly down the hall to Alfeo's room and paused outside of his door. He had no idea where the mist guardian would keep the ring, but even with an entire room to search he knew it wouldn't take long to find it. Carefully he pushed open the door and looked inside, scanning the darkness with dull, uninterested eyes. As expected the room was silent and still, but nevertheless he slipped inside and shut the door quietly behind him.

Maybe he was stupid enough to leave it on the bedside table. That seems like something he would do.

The table beside Alfeo's bed stood empty save from a clock glowing dully and a battered, clearly second hand copy of a novel; there was no ring in sight, and Fran frowned. Of all the times for Alfeo to display some form of responsibility…

A glint of light from the window caught his eye and drew his attention towards the bed. There, on the middle finger of Alfeo's right hand sat the ring, seeming to glow as if illuminated from behind by a soft, indigo tinted light. Fran blinked. The ring always had seemed to reflect a strange color. He approached the bed and stared down at it, feeling only the tiniest flicker of surprise that Alfeo still wore it, even it in sleep. Taking it now would be a bit trickier, but only a bit, and he sighed softly, put out that he would have to put even the smallest amount of work into taking the ring back. If nothing else, he realized as he thought over his options and slowly came up with a plan, it was a chance to have some form of payback. He could show Alfeo what he really thought of his new position as mist guardian, and moreover, how he felt about his adoption of the ring.

The sheets at the base of Alfeo's bed stirred, rippling before settling again. With Alfeo asleep, there were things about Fran's illusion that would pass unnoticed by anyone but himself, but it didn't bother him. It was part of his craft, a way to stretch his legs. The sheets shifted again, a small lump raising and beginning to extend slowly up the length of Alfeo's body as the comforter moved again to form another small bubble of fabric. In his sleep Alfeo frowned and moved, kicking feebly as the disturbance moved up to his chest. Satisfied that his illusion was going to have the intended effect, Fran leaned down and grasped the ring, slipping it carefully from his finger. If Alfeo was going to wake up, he wanted it to be from what now began to peek out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

The touch of Fran's hand made Alfeo's eyes flutter and with effort he seemed to pull himself from sleep to focus on the illusionist. It took a moment, but slowly Fran could see comprehension surface in his face.

"Fran, what are you…"

A skeletal hand brushed over his cheek, silencing him instantly and forcing his eyes down to the bed as a pale sunken face emerged and gaped up at him. The face was devoid of color, its features twisted by still recognizable as it crawled up the bed, making room for the crush of bodies as more figures surfaced at the foot of the bed and began to crawl up Alfeo's legs.

Alfeo jerked away from the touch and scrambled against the pillows, sitting up against the headboard in an attempt to shrink away from the bodies as one by one they emerged from beneath the blankets and reached for him. As Fran watched he slapped the hands away, horrified and repulsed, his eyes bigger than Fran ever thought they could be.

"What are you? Don't touch me!"

The figures continued to advance, their mouths open and slack as if trying to speak and finding themselves unable, and as Alfeo reached and pushed them, his feet kicking away the sheets, Fran caught his hand. Alfeo was saying something, some expression of horror as a hand reached and gripped his hair, but Fran ignored it. If Alfeo couldn't see through a simple illusion than what good was he as a guardian anyway? Fran pulled the ring from his finger and clutched it tightly. It was cold, even after sitting on Alfeo's hand, and Fran dwelled on this for only a moment before stepping back and watching. Alfeo's words were quickly picking up in volume and pitch. He was screaming now, trying to escape the grasping fingers and wide mouths as they approached him and Fran could only sigh. He hadn't even used a ring to enhance his illusions, hadn't even put that much effort into them, and Alfeo was responding with more horror than Fran had even considered he would.

With the ring in his hand he turned away, exiting the room quietly and leaving Alfeo alone with the figures, still screaming as he closed the door.

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Any critique or comments are welcome. Hope you enjoyed!


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